I can feel you, hidden through valleys under the deepest of oceans.
Formed by the pressure of pain and growing from its motions.
Your path blossoms flowers and life springs from each step you take.
Your candied aroma makes the fragrance of scented oils seem fake.
Your silhouette imprinted by memories to be unlocked.
My passion for you is unfathomable and can’t be rocked.
The tones given by life don’t resonate to your voice.
The garments you wear are beautiful and always the perfect choice.
You’re not in my hands now but I hold an echo of your love to come.
I can see a smile so bright it makes all my pain numb.
I gain my strength with each battle not growing tired.
Relentlessly I break the chains from binding what our fate is desired.
Your eyes burn with passion arraying love or brimstone.
Your actions are fruitful and within you is a home.
I feel your prayers for me and mine too are true.
I only pray I take the right path directly to you.
Refined and renewed with the sorrow that accompanies your love.
A heart hidden from a world fitted in a sinister glove.

Dusk paints the hillside in a subtle orange glow, the colour so warm
it reminds me of a summer long ago..
It was only yesterday that we were playing with each other,
now we listen to the kids laughing in the park.
Dusk paints the hillside in a subtle orange glow,
It reminds me of the last exam on a Thursday or Friday so,
We were growing up with each line we wrote with our pens,
Filling the blank answer sheets,
Listening to the kids free and wild screaming outside
brought back memories of innocent childhood life.
The sound of glee was from somewhere nearby,
Yet I still couldn't trace its source.
Maybe it was my younger self blessing me with her glow.
It faded away as I stapled my sheets,
The fate was then forever sealed,
and now the sky is turning blue.
So what? Golden wheat ripened in the fields stands tall...
A blazing summer awaits me, youth is still to be lived.
So what if childhood is forever over,
We were in that cramped exam hall, writing our names on our sheets,
Painting our futures with ink bruises on our skin.
Dusk covers the sky in a beautiful tangerine,
Reminding me of eating oranges
Grandma peeled for me
while the afternoon silence went on and on
like life often does...
Nights will linger in Nostalgia,
perhaps I will fall in love with a stranger...
Of course I will,
it's my first summer of freedom.
The sun is setting on a glorious day,
somewhere it's the beginning,
somewhere it's an ending.
In my story, it's an ending with the beginning.

today i turned 17
another year onto my life
another candle on the cake;
closer to being an adult
or
closer to my death
my perception of aging has always been obscured
unsurety fills me not knowing what lies ahead
but i no longer want to live "unsure"
im determined to live this last year of being adult-free ;
with no worries, no doubts
to live surely in everything i do
ill update again in 365 days.

Four young men on a rooftop in 1969,
Putting on a show for the very last time.

Not the last for any,
but this was the fab fours end.

Four old men under thirty,
about to start again.

People pointing fingers,
people laying blame.

Surely it can't be over
they'll Get Back again.

They'll travel back down that
Long and Winding Road.

Back to Penny Lane,
where it started so long ago.

Imagine the world without the Beatles,
I wonder if you can.

I remember four young men on a rooftop,
being great again.

Wanting to prove it to the world,
Before they let it end.

Before they let it go,
Before they Let it Be.

And that's the memory of
the Beatles,
I'll always choose to see.